


Strangers on a Train

by Lemur710



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Post-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Some light angst, fluff too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemur710/pseuds/Lemur710
Summary: Remus and Sirius see an interesting sight and unearth some old memories on the London Underground.





	Strangers on a Train

**Author's Note:**

> I rediscovered some of my first forays into fanfic and thought they could be fun (*yikes*) to post. Written for a Hitchcock title prompt.

Remus stepped aside and gripped the door, keeping it from sliding shut on Sirius as he climbed in on still-weak legs. “Cheers,” he said softly, giving a small nod and a smile to the young woman in the business skirt and power heels who stood up to give Sirius her seat.

The long jacket and hood Sirius wore made him look older than he was, but all things considered, he was just the sort of person for whom such prime seats on the tube were reserved, so Remus helped him settle into it and stood gratefully beside the young woman. She gave him a sympathetic smile and opened the book in her hands, expertly reading even while holding on through the sway and rock of the train car.

Sirius lifted his head and looked around, eyes youthful and blazing as they scanned over the few other people in the car, over the ads above the seating. Remus kneed him gently and coughed a reminder; Sirius lowered his head.

It was a risk being out, even on London’s Underground, when the Dementors would still be looking for him and the Minister of Magic would love nothing more than to say the vile murderer Sirius Black had been caught. But Sirius needed a wand and Remus couldn’t very well choose one for him; that was how disasters happened and Remus was rather fond of having intact walls in his little cabin in Kent. As it was, the tube was safer than simply popping up somewhere and they’d chosen the last car of the train during a quiet time of day. Hopefully they could avoid most of the crowds.

Remus gripped the bright yellow bar to steady himself as the train car slowed to a stop. The doors slid open and Remus ducked to the side, coming to stand right in front of Sirius, as the young woman left and several more riders climbed on. A group of teenage boys in school uniforms announced their presence with laughter and raunchy jokes. Their striped private school ties hung loosely about their necks and several carried their gray uniform jackets over one arm. Remus watched them walk to the far end of the car.

An old lady in a shawl grunted and got up from her seat near Sirius, moving to sit behind Remus and away from the young ruffians. One boy, bright-eyed and light-haired, smiled wickedly at her. “‘Allo, Mum,” he said. “Don’t let us chase you away.”

His friend, equally youthful, equally brash and blond, threw an arm around the first boy’s shoulder and gripped a hand to his heart. “We’re good lads, I promise.”

The boys cackled and turned back to their pals. A few adults huffed and grumbled to one another, but most everyone kept their eyes on their newspapers or their feet, and ignored the boys entirely. Remus, for his part, tried not to laugh. Oh, they were prats all right, terribly so, but they rather reminded him of a certain group of mates he used to have. The man at his feet in particular used to be quite a devil to the old witches in Hogsmeade.

“What?”

Looking down, Remus saw Sirius gazing up at him, hood hiding much of his face. He was thinner than he used to be, and they were both older, but the haler Sirius grew, the more he resembled the boy he used to be. Azkaban and life’s hardships hadn’t been able to completely drive the handsomeness from his features. His eyes still glittered.

“Remind you of anyone?” Remus answered with a smile.

Sirius turned, peering to the end of the car to see the schoolboys roughhousing with one another, their laughter loud and noisy. “Oh, yeah,” Sirius huffed, and a smile edged his lips. That, too, was still handsome.

They rode a few stops more and the numbers in the last car dwindled until it seemed to be only Remus, Sirius, the old lady in her shawl, and two of the schoolboys. With only two of them, Remus noticed the boys had grown far quieter. They stood at the very end of the car beside the emergency exit, close to one another and talking softly. They looked over a magazine one of them held open in his hands.

Remus felt a tug on his tweed coat and looked down at Sirius.

“Sit,” Sirius said. “Everyone’s gone.”

“It’s all right.”

Sirius’s dark brow furrowed and then he stood on shaky legs, reflexively grabbing onto a steady bar when the train lurched into movement.

Remus reached out to grab him. “What’re you doing?”

“Gotta get my tube-legs back, right?” Sirius bounced a bit on his feet, looking worn and creaky like an old man, but his smile was pure Sirius, all white-teeth and sly.

“Right,” Remus said. He shook his head at his friend. “That’s certainly a skill no one can live without.”

“I saw a girl once who could ride without holding on.” Sirius stepped back and forth a bit, watching his feet and never moving far from his yellow pole. “She’d stand right in the middle of the car and just sway with the train, left, right, back, forth. Stand with her arms folded like this.” Sirius dared to let go of the bar, and keeping his balance, he carefully folded his arms over his chest. “Just like this, and she’d sway, right.” The car slowed and Sirius tried to sway with it, responding to the forward pull of momentum with a backward lean of his own. The train jerked and Sirius nearly toppled backwards, hands flashing out to grab one onto the pole and one onto Remus.

“Get your tube-legs back first,” Remus said, grunting to help Sirius stand again. “Then work on your tube-wings.”

Sirius grinned and steadied himself standing in front of Remus. “How boring,” he said.

Smirking, Remus looked away from Sirius to the schoolboys standing behind him and he nearly swallowed his tongue. He tried to immediately calm his features and appear impassive and uninspired as he usually would on the tubes, even as he watched two very attractive young men snogging at the other end of the car. His throat went dry. His heart pounded and he swore he could feel sweat beginning to bead along his hair and under his arms.

This was familiar, too, and reminded him of two young wizards who’d been too brash for their own good.

One boy sat propped on the small lean-to chair by the far exit, his legs up just enough to close around those of his friend – his boyfriend, Remus hoped, though boys could be awfully cavalier these days. Remus tried to look away as the boy pressed against the window slid his hand down to the other’s waist to pull him in closer between his thighs, but his eyes kept flickering back. Right in front of him, Sirius stared blankly the other way, over Remus’s shoulder, reading the advertisements, watching the old woman knitting through the click-click-click of her needles that Remus could hear. Remus wished deeply and sincerely that Sirius wouldn’t notice or that the boys would leave before he could. He couldn’t bear for Sirius to have such a reminder of what they’d been when they were still so unsteady with one another in this new time, this new reality; old men and not young boys, scarred and not optimistic.

Sirius’s eyes lifted to almost directly above them and Remus felt the sudden stillness ratchet through the body so near him. Remus tore his eyes away from the boys and looked up to see what had so arrested Sirius.

A shaving cream advertisement suggesting men inspect their clean-shaven faces and compare them to the model’s. The mirror was flimsy and cheap, but it showed clearly enough two small figures in the far corner with too many legs and too few hands visible.

Sirius’s eyes flashed to Remus’s and before Remus could say a word, Sirius turned.

Remus grabbed him then, tugging on his shoulder, but his friend was immobile. “Sirius,” Remus hissed. “Don’t look!”

“They’re doing it here, Remus. They want to be watched.” Sirius shrugged away from Remus’s hold. “And I don’t mind watching.” At that Sirius, sat down again, settling himself comfortably to enjoy the entertainment.

Remus dare not move. He suspected he was all that blocked this wanton carnality from the elderly knitting woman behind him. He gripped the yellow pole so tightly his knuckles whitened.

Sirius let out a low whistling breath, crossing his legs and leaning back, arms across the back of the row of seats. One boy’s hand tangled in the other’s hair, their heads turned just enough to allow easy viewing of the sliding of tongues, the gentle suck of lips.

Remus felt as though he stood in anticipation and he didn’t know for what until Sirius’s eyes lowered, the randy slyness in them leaving, overwhelmed by sadness. By memory.

Those glittering eyes glanced up and Remus could only look back helplessly, watching as Sirius remembered.

The train lurched to a stop and the doors slid open.

“Oooh,” the boy against the window moaned. His eyes opened even as his friend pressed kisses to his neck. “This is our stop. Mmm, stop. This is our stop.” He pushed his friend off and grabbed his jacket. “C’mon.” Linking hands, they walked toward the door. The last boy cast a glance at Remus and Sirius, winking just as he stepped off the train.

A moment later, the train pulled into motion again. Remus swallowed against the knot in his throat, looking down at Sirius, who still stared at the ground, his mind very far away.

Then, suddenly, he stood, swaying to stay upright and grasping onto the pole before reaching forward to grab onto Remus’s lapel. “C’mon,” he said gruffly.

“What?” Remus asked, but followed where Sirius led, trying to keep him steady as the train sped through dark tunnels.

At the end of the car, Sirius pulled Remus around him, manhandling him against the lean-to seat, his back pressed against the window. A moment’s hesitation, his dark gaze flickering between Remus’s worried eyes and his lips, and Sirius leaned forward and kissed him.

Remus was too scared and startled to kiss back.

Sirius pulled back with a lazy grin. “You used to be better at this.” Then, his expression softened. He pressed a gentle kiss to Remus’s mouth. “I know,” he whispered. “I know we used to be better.” He touched another tender kiss - 

and a startled laugh broke from him when Remus’s hands slid up into his hair, under the hood, and his legs lifted to wrap around his. They kissed hard this time, heads turned just enough to show the slide of tongues, the gentle suck of lips.

At the other end of the car, the old woman stared shocked at the shameless, indecent display. Then, she grunted disapprovingly and looked back to her knitting, the needles’ click-click-clicking joined by low moaning and soft, boyish laughter.


End file.
